Reese Carlisle hates her life. Three years after her father’s arrest for one of the largest embezzlement schemes in history, twenty million dollars is still missing, and the world believes she knows where it is.

Two years after her brother’s death, they still think she killed him.

One year later, she’s still hiding.

When the loneliness is too much, she seeks out strangers for one dark night, no questions asked. She makes up a name, puts on a disguise, and tries to forget.

One night she meets a new man. She tells him her name is Denise, she’s a dental assistant, and she loves dogs. He tells her she’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s funny. Things she hasn’t heard in too long.

Things that are too good to be true…

Excerpt

I enter my dark apartment, the wall of windows providing enough ambient light to see my uninspired, decidedly minimal decor. I drop my purse and press my back to the door, sliding down to the floor. My black skirt rides up my thighs and my legs flop apart, knees rubbery, ankles weak.

I’d like to think I had too much wine, but that’s not true.

Not even after a night of halfway decent sex am I this shaky.

I know what the issue is.

My gaze flickers to my purse the way it would to a ticking time bomb. I fumble with the clasp before retrieving the shiny black room key and turning it over and over in my hand like a magician with no trick.

I yank off the cheap wig. I have a closet full of them, thanks to my brother’s short-lived career in theater management. They’re one of the few items that were returned to us after the raid. At least they came in handy. They help me become Harriet and Isabel and Jess. People nothing like the person I was. And most definitely nothing like the woman I am.

The stranger wouldn’t want this woman. He likes redheads with brown eyes who laugh when they’re not supposed to. My once-bleached hair is back to its natural black, my fingernails haven’t been painted in three years, and I only bother to shave my legs when I have a date. I don’t think the stranger would know what to do with this girl. He could read a million newspaper stories exposing my father’s crimes and hypothesizing about mine and never find the truth.

Liar. Thief. Murderer. Whore.

It’s in there somewhere.

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About the Author

Julianna Keyes is a Canadian writer who has lived on both coasts and several places in between. She’s been skydiving, bungee jumping and white water rafting, but nothing thrills—or terrifies—her as much as the blank page. She loves Chinese food, foreign languages, baseball and television, though not necessarily in that order, and writes sizzling stories with strong characters, plenty of conflict, and lots of making up.

Website: www.juliannakeyes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/juliannakeyes

Facebook: www.facebook.com/juliannakeyesauthor

Email: info@juliannakeyes.com

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